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Wait Until Dark: Carolina Moon Series, Book 3 Page 15
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Finally, at five a.m., he threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. He stoked the fire then jumped in the shower, the warm water refreshing and invigorating.
Dear Lord, please be with us today. I don’t want this to turn ugly.
As soon as he was dressed, he stepped into the living room. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Felicity was both up and had made some coffee. She sat underneath a blanket by the fire, sipping from a mug. She’d turned toward him when his door opened.
His throat went dry at the sight of her. Her hair was slightly tousled, her eyes still had that sleepy look, and she all-together looked cozy, warm, and inviting.
“Morning,” she murmured. “There’s more coffee in the pot.”
“You been up long?” His feet thudded across the wooden floor until he reached the kitchen. Secret delight rushed through him when he realized Felicity had also set out a coffee mug for him.
He’d taken care of himself for so long that he didn’t realize how nice it was to have someone look out for him—even if it was something as simple as coffee.
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Felicity said, her hair hanging down around her face and a sleepy look in her eyes. “Too much on my mind.”
“That’s understandable.” He poured his coffee before sitting across from her. Today was big. Important. He hadn’t forgotten that. “We have a big day ahead of us.”
She shook her head. “As soon as I get my aunt back, I’m dropping all this. I’ve been so foolish already. I should have never taken that key. I’m so sorry.”
“You couldn’t have known this would happen.”
“I’m not a risk taker, Brody. I never do stuff like this. The one time I do, the results are disastrous. I should have stuck to what was expected of me.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said quietly. “It’s not a fun place to be. The punches we throw at ourselves can hurt the worst.”
Her gaze fluttered to him, and a moment of understanding passed. Andrea. He’d beat himself up for years over Andrea. He knew exactly how she was feeling. “I know.”
She took another sip of her coffee and licked her lips. “I guess I should get ready to go. We’re an hour or so away, so we’ll want to leave early.”
He nodded. “I’d say. We can grab something to eat on the way.”
“I don’t think I can keep anything down.” Her gaze locked on his, and the air seemed to vibrate with tension around them. “What if things don’t work out the way we want, Brody?”
Desperation strained her voice.
Brody opened his mouth to speak. But, before he could, he realized there was nothing he could say.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Felicity’s gaze scurried around the marina, looking for a sign of what was to come. She saw nothing—no hints as to where her aunt was. No Hummer. No Magnum.
“Where are they?” she whispered, pulling her arms over her chest with apprehension.
“We’re early,” Brody reminded her, standing entirely too close behind her. She wasn’t arguing though. There was something about his presence that calmed her.
The marina was bustling as people launched boats to begin their fishing expeditions for the day. Several warehouses were scattered about the area where trucks came and went. Despite the cold, the scent of fish and seafood saturated the air.
The sun was rising, climbing higher in the sky, and patches of snow, mostly from where the parking area had been cleared, sat like miniature mountains in random places. The air felt brisk, but not nearly as brisk as it had been. In a few days, they would never be able to tell they’d had a snowstorm here, except for the salt plastered on road-weary cars and puddles that would muddy the landscape.
She grasped the map in her hand, trying not to press too hard and wrinkle it. Part of her didn’t care if it got wrinkled, but another part feared that any misstep on her end would result in her aunt being harmed . . . or worse.
“We’ve got this,” Brody whispered.
Just the feel of his breath on her ear sent another ripple of nerves through her. She wished she felt as confident as Brody sounded. All she could think about was everything that could go wrong.
Finally, a man stepped beyond a building in the distance. Felicity instantly recognized him. Magnum.
He looked just as slimy as she’d imagined. He had curly, sun-bleached blond hair that was slicked back from his sun-kissed face. Expensive sunglasses rested over his eyes. Each action seemed purposeful and arrogant.
But he was alone. Where was her aunt?
Brody’s arm went to her waist, and he squeezed, as if to reassure her.
As Magnum stepped forward, they met him halfway.
“Where’s my aunt?” Felicity blurted, her gaze darting behind him.
“One thing at a time.” Malice saturated his voice. This man couldn’t be trusted. Yet what choice did she have? He held all the power over her. “Where’s the map?”
She raised it, her hand trembling. “Right here. But we’re only doing this as an exchange.”
“How do I know it’s the real thing and not a fake one? We don’t want any replays of the Jefferson Conspiracy.” Satisfaction stretched in the half-curl of his lips.
Felicity felt her cheeks heat. “Don’t bring that up.”
His smirk deepened. “Embarrassing, huh?”
“Where’s my aunt?” she repeated, not wanting to talk about this here.
He held out a hand. “I need to see the map. You’re clever. You could have recreated it.”
“In the twelve hours since you contacted me? You know I couldn’t have done it that quickly.”
His eyes narrowed. “The map. You’re going to have to play by my rules.”
“We need to see her aunt first.” Brody stepped out in front of Felicity, his chest puffing out protectively. “Then you can see the map.”
Magnum raised his hands. “Then the deal is off.”
Felicity’s eyes scrambled to meet Brody’s as tension filled her. What was she going to do? She couldn’t risk not getting her aunt back, and Magnum knew that.
“I can see you’re not interested. I’ll be going then.” Magnum turned like he was going to walk away. “I’ll give your regards to your aunt.”
“No, wait!” Felicity could hardly breath. The situation slipped out of her control. It had always been out of her control, she supposed, but she felt it falling even further away. “Fine . . . you can see the map. Just don’t hurt my aunt.”
That same satisfied look washed over his face, and he snatched the map out of her hands. Felicity held her breath, waiting to see his reaction as he studied it. Finally, he nodded, seeming pleased.
“This was exactly what I wanted. There’s only one problem.” He paused. “I need the other half.”
“We don’t have the other half.” Anger tinged Brody’s voice as he bristled beside her.
Magnum’s eyebrows darted up, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Then that’s a problem.”
“That wasn’t a part of our deal.” Felicity’s voice rose with each word. He was changing the rules, and she didn’t like it. Yet she was powerless to stop it.
He held up his phone. “All I have to do is press this button, make this phone call, and boom! Your aunt is dead. I instructed my men to pull the trigger as soon as they heard the phone ring.”
“But you promised . . .” As Felicity’s voice trailed off, she realized the futility of this conversation. Magnum wasn’t going to compromise. He didn’t have to.
The man chuckled, the sound causing nausea to form in her stomach. How could she have been so stupid? She wanted to put all this behind her, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“I get what I want, Ms. French.” Magnum still grasped the map. “And I use whatever means necessary.”
“Why is this treasure so important to you?” she asked, desperate to understand what was really going on. Maybe if she just had a little insight . . .
“Certainly you�
��ve heard how much it’s worth. Not millions. Billions. I can buy my own island and never have another worry in the world.”
He was sadly mistaken if he thought buying an island would ease him of any trouble or bring fulfillment. But this wasn’t the time to get philosophical. He needed a counselor for his delusions.
“Why do you think Blackbeard’s treasure is still out there?” she asked.
“If you must know, I bought some journals at an auction. Almost impossible to read. But I managed to do it. It was a first-hand account of Blackbeard and his adventures here in the area. Said he’d hidden maps somewhere that led to the treasure. Said to look into his roots. I knew I had to get my hands on those recovered maps from Queen Anne’s Revenge.”
“So you used an alias to get hired at Project Teach,” she mused aloud. “As soon as you could, you took the maps. Which doesn’t make any sense since you already had access to them.”
He flinched. She’d hit on some kind of nerve. But why? What? Did that cannon somehow tie in to all of this?
“I knew you were a smart one,” Magnum growled. “But now you’ve distracted me from my original purpose. Getting the other half of the map.”
“You’re playing dirty,” Brody muttered.
“Find the other half of the map, and you’ll get your aunt back. Don’t involve the police. You have three days.”
“Three days?” Felicity screeched. “People have been searching for this treasure for years. You expect me to find this map in three days’ time? You’re crazy.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
She paused before asking, “Why would you say that?”
He smirked. “You’re Blackbeard’s kin, aren’t you? You’ve got pirate blood in you. Your aunt has been telling us all about it. I’m sure if you’re desperate enough, you’ll figure things out. You were smart enough to find this in one day. I’ve been searching for years.”
“Your request is unreasonable,” she finally said, unsure what else to say. There would be no convincing him. So it was either find this map or find her aunt. Otherwise, her aunt would be dead. Felicity would truly be alone in this world. The thought caused a hollowness to echo inside her.
“I’ll be in touch.”
As he started to walk away, Brody lunged, as if he might grab him. Felicity’s arm shot out to stop him. She had to keep her aunt alive. This was all her fault.
“He’s vile,” Brody muttered, staring at Magnum’s retreating figure.
“I know. What are we going to do, Brody?”
“We’re going to find the other half of that map. We don’t have any other choice.”
Brody’s mind raced as they sat in his truck in the parking lot of the marina. The engine gently hummed as heat gradually made its way through the vents and warmed them. The cracked leather seat beneath him suddenly felt as hard as an ice cube. Life continued on around them, as if nothing was wrong.
He knew that for Felicity, everything felt wrong.
He had to help her. He realized the task before them was nearly impossible. Yet they had no choice but to try. He had to, for Felicity’s sake. For her aunt’s sake.
He pulled his gaze from out the window and saw Felicity had buried her face in her hands. He sensed her tears without seeing them and placed a hand on her shoulder. He wished he could take away her pain. All he could do was try to help her find resolution to this. He hoped that would be enough.
“I know this is hard, but we don’t have time to feel sorry for ourselves now,” Brody started, keeping his voice gentle. “We’ve got to figure out a plan.”
We. Why did he keep referring to this as if it was his problem as well? He knew: there was no way he was jumping ship and leaving Felicity to do this on her own. He wasn’t that heartless.
Felicity raised her head high enough to shake it. She pulled her sleeves over her hands and sniffled. “How? I don’t even know where to start. We’ve rehashed all of this already. I have no clue where the other half of the map could be.”
He sat back and thought for several minutes, praying for an answer to come to him. He reviewed everything he knew. Everything he thought he knew. Everything he wanted to know.
He straightened as an idea hit him. “Your aunt really believes Blackbeard’s blood is in your family, right?”
Felicity nodded, drawing in a deep breath and glancing at him with red-rimmed eyes. “That’s right. She’s said that for years.”
“Did anyone else in your family agree?”
“My grandma would just smile. She was the quieter of the two, and she took everything in stride. I always assumed she also thought Bonny was crazy.”
“But she didn’t deny it.”
Felicity shrugged. “I guess not.”
“Are there any family heirlooms left at your house, Felicity? Pirate or not?”
She was silent a moment, staring straight ahead. “There’s that sword. I didn’t pay it much mind until a couple of days ago. I realized it was old, but swords really aren’t my thing. Books are.”
“Any other heirlooms?”
She sighed and ran her hands across her cheeks. “My grandma left most of her things up in the attic of the house.”
“Have you ever looked through them?”
She shook her head. “Honestly, it always seemed too hard for me. I assumed I would one day, but the pain always felt too fresh.”
A pang of compassion pounded inside him. “The pain of losing her?”
“Yeah, I guess I’m the type who likes to stay busy rather than confront the things that hurt me. Even though I love anything of historical significance, I couldn’t bring myself to look through her possessions. I wasn’t going to come back—until I had to.”
He squeezed her arm. “Why don’t we go back to your grandma’s place? Let’s start there. Maybe—just maybe—there will be some kind of clue.”
She glanced at him again, this time with her eyebrows raised. “A clue that I’m related to Blackbeard?”
He shrugged, knowing the idea sounded crazy. “I have no clue. But I don’t have any other great ideas of where to start. You?”
She shook her head and drew in a deep breath. “No, I don’t have any.”
He put the truck into drive. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Felicity’s stomach was in knots by the time they pulled up to the old plantation house. It was just after lunchtime—they’d grabbed a burger from a fast-food joint on the way, but Felicity had hardly tasted it. She was lucky to keep it down.
When Brody put the truck in park, Felicity stared at the house in front of her. For years, she’d been fascinated with this place and its history. But after her parents died, she just hadn’t had the heart to look into her roots—to really look. It seemed to remind her of how much she’d lost, and she wasn’t ready to face that yet.
Now she had no choice.
“When was this place built?” Brody asked, still sitting in the truck beside her.
She glanced at her grandma’s place. The house looked lovely with the covering of melting snow as she stared out the windshield at it. “1802.”
“Wow. You remembered that easily.”
She shrugged like it was no big deal. “I’ve always been fascinated with old things. This is no different.”
He let out a long sigh that caught her curiosity.
She shifted to face him better. “What was that for?”
He turned toward her, disappointment in his gaze. “The year 1802 was after Blackbeard’s time. He was killed in 1718, I think.”
Felicity felt her lungs deflate. “Of course. I’d forgotten that. So this could all be for naught.”
“However, we don’t have any other leads at this point. Let’s go cross this off. If we don’t find anything, we can move on.”
They trudged out of the truck and climbed the rickety porch. Felicity’s keys jangled against each other in her hands as she attempted to unlock the door. After several failed attemp
ts—her hands were trembling too badly—Brody took the keys from her and slipped the correct one into the lock.
He pushed the door open, and an empty house stared back at them.
How could it be that her grandma was no longer here? How had a home once filled with so much joy been reduced to a shack, a shell of what it had once been? It seemed like a travesty.
She’d avoided that thought for so long.
“Why don’t we start in the attic and see what’s up there?” Brody said.
She nodded, drawing every last ounce of her strength. She led Brody upstairs and through the hallway where the bedrooms were located. She pushed open the door at the end, and a set of steps yawned at them. They were dark and haunting and had always made her throat go dry.
Brody reached beyond her and flicked the switch. “No light?”
She shrugged, a sudden chill washing over her. “I haven’t been up here in years. I went once as a child, and I accidentally got locked in. My parents didn’t realize I was there, and they were locking up the house before a trip. It took them fifteen minutes to find me—fifteen minutes that felt like hours. I’ve never liked this place since then.”
“That’s understandable.” He looked back at her. “Got a flashlight?”
“No, but there are some lanterns in the bedrooms like the ones I pulled out during the storm. My grandma kept them all over the house. It’s a Depression-Era thing, I think. They didn’t throw anything away, just in case.”
He slipped into the closest bedroom and emerged a moment later with a kerosene lantern. “This will work.” He struck a match and lit the wick.
Brody started up the stairs first, and Felicity stayed close behind him, imaginary spiders crawling over her skin. She felt like this was a scene from one of those old mystery novels she used to read as a child. A dark room, a lantern, and a guy and girl exploring the unknown searching for clues.
It always seemed much more romantic in the books. Right now, it seemed intimidating. Scary. Overwhelming.